


The Promise

by dragonwriter24cmf



Category: Parasol Protectorate - Gail Carriger
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22589533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Lord Maccon is a possessive man. He knows this. He also thinks he has the right to wonder why his wife was late to their wedding, and why she arrived with another man, not her father. He's not foolish enough to ask Alexia, but there's always Akeldama. If he can just get a straight answer...
Kudos: 21





	The Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to Gail Carriger

**The Promise**

As a leader of the BUR, Lord Maccon was naturally suspicious. As an Alpha werewolf (and a man, if he had to admit it) he was extremely possessive. Perhaps even a tad bit jealous. So naturally, when his wife-to-be arrived late for the wedding, he was suspicious, though he managed to convince himself not to be unduly concerned. As Professor Lyall pointed out, women would have their foibles, and a bride more than most. However, her rumored arrival with Lord Akeldama, also rumored to have helped with many last minute alterations to the bride's appearance, produced an alarming wealth of very definite anger. And possessiveness. And, of course, a rather unhealthy dose of jealous rage, which he was hard put to restrain, and only managed to set aside when he saw his delectable looking bride striding up the aisle to meet him. The sight, combined with the ceremony, and visions of the possibilities after the necessary formalities, was quite enough to push the unseemly emotions out of his thoughts for quite some time.

These thoughts did surface again, when Lord Akeldama gave his congratulations. And again, when he requested a dance, which the bride agreed to, far too graciously in her new husband's opinion. They did look a rather charming couple, never mind that Akeldama's tastes ran in rather a different direction, and Alexia had quite definitely demonstrated her preferences. Seeing them together, even for a single dance, caused the earl of Woolsey to have thoughts of mayhem entirely inappropriate to a wedding.

One did not, however, voice such thoughts to one's wife during the wedding. Scottish and far too blunt though he might be, even Lord Maccon knew that much. And the night that followed was entirely too pleasant to waste in such contemplation. He had far too many better things to do, such as giving his wife the loving attention he had been desirous of giving her for months. A thorough and intimate exploration of each other was culminated on the wedding night, and the following two nights. During such activities, it was entirely impossible to care _what_ had been going on, or with whom. Alexia was his, and in his arms, and that was really all he needed to know.

That did not, however, mean he forgot his concerns. But the fourth night of their wedded life resulted in the return of his pack to Woolsey castle, and thus an end to their retreat from the world. He watched Alexia settle blissfully into the business of making herself at home, particularly in her closets and what had been his kitchens. He himself puttered around with business for some minutes, then resolved himself to the inevitable, collected his clothing, announced to his wife that he was stepping out, and let his feet take him to Lord Akeldama's residence.

It was dark by the time he arrived, making it not an indecent hour to call upon the vampire lord. It was, however, rather short notice, as he was forced to acknowledge while standing in the hallway waiting for one of the drones to take his card up. He had come without even inquiring as to whether Lord Akeldama was even at home, or disposed to take guests. They had, on several occasions, managed polite interactions, and were familiar with each other, but they were hardly close enough for unexpected house calls. When it came down to it, he was not entirely certain Akeldama would receive him at all, even if he was not indisposed.

Rather to his surprise and relief, the drone returned and bid him accompany him, in rather shorter time than he had been expecting. Thus he found himself being led through the house into a rather old-fashioned drawing room, where Lord Akeldama sat upon a far too ornate couch. The drone bowed him in, and another finished setting up tea, whereupon both bowed to their master and left the two of them alone.

Akeldama broke the awkward silence first, with a smile. “My _dear_ Lord Maccon. To _what_ do I owe the pleasure of your _delightful_ company this evening? I admit, _I_ had not expected you for some _days_. As a newly wedded man, and to such a _positively_ _delightful_ young lady, I could hardly _imagine_ you tearing yourself away so soon.”

Maccon shifted awkwardly, then sat on the seat Akeldama waved him to, accepting the tea the lord offered him. The seat was altogether too soft for his taste, but the tea was delicious. He sipped, and recovered enough poise to fashion a reply. “My wife is in the process of settling into her new home.”

“ _Ah._ Of course.” Akeldama's smile turned commiserating. “Settling in is such a _noisy_ process. Why, there's no _end_ to all the fuss. And your charming lady is so _very_ strong-willed. I'll wager she has half the staff, to say nothing of your pack, in an absolute _uproar_.”

“Indeed.” Lord Maccon took another sip of tea. “You said you were expecting me?”

Akeldama raised one eyebrow. “But _of_ _course_. After all, your lovely wife is a rather _ dear _friend of mine. It's only _natural_ that you and I should be forced to talk things out. I _hardly_ expect that Lady Alexia Maccon will brook _any_ interference in _her_ associations. And, I confess, _I_ have absolutely no desire to break off this rather amusing friendship with her. But...well, my _dear_ earl, I am _entirely_ aware that you werewolves are so _very_ territorial over such matters.” he smiled again. “Then again...your lady is _quite_ assertive herself, in that regard.”

“She is.” Maccon considered a moment, then set his cup down decisively. “I have a question on some circumstances, and I should like you to clarify them for me.”

“Ah.” Lord Akeldama set down his own teacup. “Well, _do_ ask away. I'm all ears.”

Lord Maccon restrained a growl. The vampire lord's tone was just a touch too arch for his liking. “The night of our wedding, my wife-to-be arrived late. I was not overly concerned, until I was informed that she had arrived with _you_. In _your_ carriage, to be rushed off and tended to by her new maid, and _your_ highest placed drone.”

Lord Akeldama's eyebrow rose. “I did wonder if _that_ would attract notice.” He shrugged. “Well, I _did_ loan her my _darling_ Biffy's services. After all, Alexia has simply _no_ talent for proper preparations, and on _such_ a night. Really. I simply _could_ _not_ let the sweet thing go to the altar at _anything_ less than her best.” He gestured expansively with one hand.

Maccon fought the urge to snarl. Again. “That does not explain why she arrived with you, and not with her other friends, or family. Or why she came late.”

“Ah.” Akeldama favored him with a mildly quizzical look, pursing his lips with a slightly disapproving air. “Well, _surely_ you are not suspecting some... _indiscretion_. I _quite_ assure you, Lady Alexia is the very _epitome_ of correct. And faithful. Besides, as I am _sure_ you are aware, even if the _lady_ were so inclined, _I_ am not.”

“I do not think it.” Lord Maccon sighed. “I merely wish to know what transpired, that my bride should arrive in another man's presence, and that not her father. And...” He glared at the vampire lord. “I would appreciate it if you would quit talking around the subject and answer my question.”

“Well, if I _must_.” The vampire shrugged rather carelessly, but Lord Maccon saw the shadow of unease in his eyes. “As it _happens,_ your lovely, darling tulip of a wife elected to visit _me_ , to fulfill a promise I had asked of her, during that rather _dreadful_ incident with those scientific _louts._ ” He shuddered, ever so slightly. “I did not ask, nor _expect_ , her to do such a thing, and on her _wedding_ _day_ no less. But...well, it was _entirely_ her decision. And I was _not_ particularly adverse.”

Lord Maccon considered this. He remembered well the incident of the Hypocras club. Certainly he remembered that Lord Akeldama had been taken and drained of his blood nearly to death. To say nothing of being bound and crucified in a most appalling and torturous manner. He had helped release the man from his terrible bonds, and felt a rather definite sympathy for the not insignificant suffering Lord Akeldama had undergone. However, the mention of a promise between Akeldama and Alexia, a promise she had not informed him of, contrived to make his blood boil once more.

With effort he forced back the desire to leap at the vampire. Instead, he forced out a growl. “What promise?”

Akeldama raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Really. You _know_ it is _terribly_ rude to inquire into such matters. A promise, particularly under such _distressing_ circumstances, is a _very_ private thing.”

The Earl of Woolsey managed, with a great deal of difficulty, to maintain his grasp on his temper. “Perhaps. But as Alexia is _my_ wife, I think I have the right to know what promises she made to another man.”

“Well, it was nothing of _that_ sort.” Akeldama shrugged. He rose, tugging at a minute crease in his coat, looking away. Then he returned his gaze to Lord Maccon's. Rather to the earl's surprise, Akeldama's face was oddly serious. His eyes were dark and haunted, and he looked slightly uncomfortable. “If you absolutely _must_ know, I asked Alexia to do me the favor of helping me.” His gaze went to rest over Maccon's shoulder, and his voice was far more serious than usual when next he spoke. “I asked your darling wife to grant me the privilege of seeing the sun set, if we both survived the treatment those _brutes_ inflicted on us. It could only happen in _her_ company, you know. And I had not seen the sun in a very _long_ time.”

The statement was so utterly shocking, coming as it was from a vampire, that it took Lord Maccon a moment or two to process it. When he did, however, he was on his feet in an instant, barely able to suppress his rage. “You asked Alexia to take you into the sun?”

“Indeed.” Akeldama shrugged again. “One _does_ long for the sun, after so _very_ many years.”

Lord Maccon strode forward until he was within grasping distance. It was only with very great effort that he restrained himself from grabbing his host and doing something quite unseemly. Like shaking him. Or throwing him into the nearest wall. He contained both urges and contented himself with a fang-tipped snarl. “Does Alexia know what you really asked of her?” He leaned forward to breathe the words into the lord's ear. “Does she know...you were asking her to help you with...with _that_?”

“Gods above _no_.”Akeldama snorted delicately. “She would hardly have granted _that_ sort of request. Indeed, she most likely would have called Biffy, and had him _sit_ on me, or some other such _nonsense_. And most likely _,_ given me a _rather_ horrendous lecture.” he shivered again. “Darling Alexia is rather an absolute _terror_ when she is _properly_ angry.”

Lord Maccon could relate. He nodded, sighing out his frustration, and no small amount of commiseration as he remembered when he himself had been on the receiving end of Alexia's rather formidable temper. “True.” He backed away to a more polite distance, then scowled. “But why ask her that?”

Akeldama's eyes darkened. “My _dear_ earl. _Every_ creature has their limits. I happen to be _very_ aware of _mine_. I did not know _what_ those men had planned, but it was _obviously_ going to be _very_ unpleasant. Given that none of the others had reappeared, and the results of their experiments died with _appalling_ frequency, I did not hope for much better. Even supernaturals can be maimed or driven to madness. _I_ have absolutely _no_ wish to continue in _such_ a state. Even were such weakness _not_ a death knell among our kind.”

That, Lord Maccon had to concede, was truth. Vampires and werewolves were both predators. As such, they were both rather apt to pounce on a weakness in a fellow predator. And, it could be argued, the members of London High Society were at times hardly less vicious. Lord Maccon was forced to admit that he himself would have preferred death over living without full use of his wits, or his physical body.

Akeldama saw the concession in his eyes. “Sunlight is, when all's said and done, reported to be a _relatively_ easy death. Certainly, it is _quite_ swift. One presumes a _certain_ amount of discomfort, but it does not last long, does it?” He shrugged again. “I would have made _quite_ certain that it was known to be _my_ choice, and _no_ fault of the lady's.”

Lord Maccon grimaced. “She would not accept that.” He met the vampire's eyes. “You would have hurt her deeply.” A snarl lifted one corner of his lip. “I will not permit you to hurt her.”

“Well. I am _very_ glad we agree on _that._ ” Lord Akeldama held his gaze without flinching. “ _Believe_ me, my dear earl. I have absolutely _no_ wish to hurt your _sweet_ wife either.” He sighed. "Alexia is _dear_ to me, in her way. And seeing the sunlight was _quite_ moving, after all these years, quite worth the risk. Though in truth, Alexia has _my_ trust, enough that I would not consider the risk to be at all high."  


Lord Maccon nodded. “As long as we are agreed on that...” He shifted uncomfortably. “I shall...attempt...not to make overmuch fuss over your association with my wife.”

Akeldama smiled. “That is _very_ kind of you. In _that_ case, I shall make _quite_ certain not to presume _too_ often upon you. However, if you'll pardon _my_ bluntness, my lord, _you_ have a new wife at home. It's not _my_ taste, but I _do_ understand that she likely expects you back relatively soon. You haven't even been married a _week,_ my dear man.”

Lord Maccon understood a dismissal when he heard one. He nodded and collected himself. “That is true. I must take my leave of you.”

Akeldama smiled. “Of course. _Do_ give your _lovely_ wife my regards.”

“I shall.” With a final courteous nod to his host, Lord Maccon saw himself out, and headed for home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little filler scene. Because you know Lord Maccon had to be curious.


End file.
